


Stars

by monyaka



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: During Canon, F/F, First Kiss, Master/Servant, Mild Hurt/Comfort, femslashfeb2017, these two are my otp and my lifeblood why are there no fics for them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:38:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9607946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monyaka/pseuds/monyaka
Summary: Dorothea finds out about Sophia's dying wish.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5 - Stars. This is for tumblr user puff-pink's femslash February list! I'm a little late with this, but I've always loved Katia and Dorothea, and this prompt immediately brought to mind the starry skies of Dropstone.

The stars are bright in the little country town of Dropstone. The galaxy lies before them in little pinpricks of light. These little pinpricks of hope illuminate the two young women as they sit, both with their legs splayed to one side; however, it’s notable that their legs are splayed out to opposite sides from each other, their silhouettes spelling closeness but practicing distance. Hands rest in the grass, one delicate and ghostly white and the other work-worn and warm-toned.

They are silent, both knowing that they are not to be out here. Not at this place, not at this hour and certainly not together. Dorothea rubs a blade of grass between her fingers; idle hands conditioned to find work. 

Katia finally speaks. “I didn’t want to say anything in the house.”

“It’s bad luck, Miss Katia,” the servant agrees. This too comes second nature to her, she must always obey the mistress. 

The level of formality Dorothea employs, that she always employs, causes Katia to scrunch up her features, big eyes in part amused and concerned. Her porcelain hand rests delicate in the grass, but at this, it twitches. It’s gentle, though, elegant and soft. Such is the way Katia has been raised. 

Dorothea swallows. She has been raised the opposite. She is not elegant by design, she is crude and meant for work, like cattle. Katia looks to the stars and her youthful features are illuminated in the starlight. In that moment, it’s obvious that she is distraught, that the world is about to change for the both of them. The servant’s heart is heavy for the worry written in her mistress’ expression. 

“I’m leaving.”

The words pierce through Dorothea’s heart. Landscape matters little. She thinks not of the stars nor the grass nor the gentle breeze carrying the scent of heather to the women’s noses. She can only think of Katia, her mistress, her world, her –

“Why?” The word is soft and pained and unlike her. She has never questioned a decision. She has never raised an argument against her mistress. But she needs to know. Why Katia? Why now? Katia _must_ stay in Dropstone. What is her servant to do without her?

Katia’s eyes spill over, her teal irises sparkling. She’s not supposed to look beautiful, not now, but she does. “G-Grandma... told me to find Grandpa. In... Folsense.” Her voice is thick with a weight she has never been meant to carry.

Dorothea moves. Her hand, not meant to ever touch something as beautiful as the young mistress, brushes against her cheek, wipes away her tears. “I... will get you there.” Her eyes search Katia’s, daring her to disagree. But Katia believes every word. She knows her servant and knows she will keep her word. Katia lets out a soft, somewhat unbecoming sniffle. Her doll-like hand moves from the grass and she holds Dorothea’s. The servant’s blood turns hot and cold. 

In all her life, Dorothea has imagined a kiss to be something that is enacted. She has imagined that someone kisses someone else. One person kisses and another is kissed. She has imagined being kissed by Katia before, but it is different now in that when Katia leans in, Dorothea does too. It’s automatic and it’s simultaneous. The first things that make contact are their hands, moving away from Katia’s cheek to rest intertwined in the grass. Katia clings to her servant’s elbow. Dorothea rests her hand on her mistress’ side. Their noses touch next, and then their lips. This, Dorothea learns, is a kiss shared between them. 

“I’ll miss you most out of everyone,” whispers Katia, her movements shaky and fearful. 

Dorothea smiles, the action wistful, and touches a lock of purple hair. She’s imagined doing this before, but never has she imagined that the first time it occurs would be when Katia is about to leave. She will, however, return. The servant will make sure of it. “Bring him back. I will be here when you return.”

The two of them share another kiss under the stars.


End file.
